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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855438">Maybe It'll Be Okay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickingflowers/pseuds/kickingflowers'>kickingflowers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Turned Into a Ghost, Delusions, For me i guess for me this ship is like the strongest platonic soulbond, Hallucinations, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't even know if they are in a relationship, I feel awkward about them having sex, M/M, My First Fanfic, Post-Canon, Post-War, Read into this as you like, WIll is bascially seeing ghost Tom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:35:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickingflowers/pseuds/kickingflowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years and yet, Lance Corporal Thomas Blake still looks as young as the day he left this world. Will knew that Tom was dead, hell, he felt Tom's life leave his body; but, he couldn't help but see Tom everywhere. He knew it was unhealthy, but if his mind was working so hard to fool him into thinking that Tom was alive, then maybe letting himself believe would be alright...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Blake &amp; William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe It'll Be Okay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door was open and it was letting a gentle breeze in making the sheer curtains flutter like the ripples lapping onto the bank of a river. The tree outside was in full blossom and this released a sweet fragrance that traveled through the window and coated throughout the room permeating everything with its scent. Suddenly a stronger breeze rustled the branches and the petals that were shaken loose glided across the air and landed right at the foot of the door, piling there. And seeing those blossoms caused him to almost move physically through time and space back to the war. Back to that godforsaken day when they were walking down the grove of trees that Blake assured him would grow again. He stilled remembered the petals then, dancing through the wind freed by Blake’s fingers running over them. His heart lurched in his chest as he was brought back to reality. He knew that Lance Corporal Thomas Blake had been dead for over ten years and yet if Will looked hard enough, he could see Tom standing there by the door looking out at the grove that Will had planted in his honor. While he had never really seen Tom outside of his uniform, this Tom that was standing before him was dressed casually in a loose white button-down shirt and some nice fitting black slacks. His hair was clean and his face youthful, lacking the lines that the stress of war and survival had brought. He was more filled out as if in some way to compensate for the fact that he knew Tom had never gotten enough to eat while in the trenches. </p><p> </p><p>It was like this almost every day now. He would wake up to warm sunshine that would always pale in comparison to the bright smile that Tom would give him when he caught Will’s eye. Tom had started showing up two months after he died. Will had gotten back to his company and was on rotation to leave, with no return date. He knew that he should be excited to see his Emily along with his daughters Sophia and Elizabeth, but for some reason all he could feel was dread. He was a failure how could he be a good father and husband if he couldn’t even protect one person. This panic kept growing inside him eating away at him. It was during one of these moments of panic that Tom first appeared. At first, he wasn’t a full person like he would become later, instead it was just a voice, carried by the wind admonishing him for having those foolish thoughts. Will knew that it was just his mind, but for some reason, it sounded strangely like Tom. But, the words had the effect it was going for, Will calmed down and he was ready to go home. Perhaps he could make it up to Tom for not being able to save him if he was able to help his family. Once he got home, instead of getting better, it just got worse. The voice started becoming more solid and real with each passing day and 1 year after the war had been over, Will started to see Tom. Unlike the voice, this vision of Tom was solid from the start. He didn’t look like he did when Will last saw him, instead he looked happy and refreshed and so young. He had almost forgotten how young Tom was and seeing him again just wrenched his heart, twisting it out of shape and pulling a sob from somewhere deep in his core. </p><p> </p><p>His family knew that something was going on with Will but they just blamed it on the horrors of war and then reasons with themselves that when Will was ready he would come back to them and keep being the same person that they knew him to be, at least for the first few months, but then as time kept passing and Will just getting worse and worse they were afraid. Will would just sit on a chair, looking out the window, but not truly looking because the way his eyes were so unfocused implied that he was somewhere deep in his mind. Then when one year had passed, their father and husband had a breakdown. It was very sudden one moment he was finally ready to go out into the yard to have an afternoon tea party with his daughters, he just stopped and looked out at nothing in shock. He dropped the cups on the floor and siding seem to have any intention of picking them up. The crash had brought all three women into the house and in front of Will but he didn’t see them. he only saw something that no one else could see and it must have been horrible because Will then suddenly dropped to his knees and the sobs made their hearts go out to him. They had never heard this kind of sadness and they didn’t know how to deal with it. </p><p> </p><p>After that first incident, Tom’s presence became more commonplace in the house and it would always cause a Will to drop what he was doing in favor of just pouring his attention to the ghost that still haunts his dreams and his heart. Before another year had passed, he and Emily had sat down and agreed that Will was a danger to the kids especially the fact that he just dropped everything and just sat there with nothing, and while the children were growing fast, they still needed their father. While Emily still loved Will with all her heart, she knew, whether it was a woman’s instinct or just observation, that Will was no longer the same person that she loved, not completely anyway. Her other half had died in the war and she accepted that she was never going to get that back. So Will moved out of the house and moved out of the city and into a more remote part of England. He bought himself a small plot of land and a small house as far away from others as possible and he planted cherry trees. Over the next ten years, he kept watching while these trees grew and when they first blossomed it was truly a sight to behold, it was just like the moment of peace, the calm before the storm. </p><p> </p><p>And so this was where he was today. Will knew that Tom wasn’t real, that he had died in his arms in someone else backyard because of Will’s inability to rationalize and protect Tom from that blasted German. But, he couldn’t help himself. Being able to see Tom and see him happy and unlike the scared and panicked look that he had while he was looking at his wound and back up at Will, it was a salve for him. Something that helped in some way to alleviate the memories that plagued him. looking at Tom sometimes he seemed so real, if it wasn’t for the fact that Tom didn’t age in these past ten years, he would almost believe that Tom was alive. </p><p> </p><p>He still looked as young as the day he died a young 18-year-old boy, not fully prepared for war, a boy not fully aware of where he was and how fragile life on the front would be. Thinking back to when he first met him it made Will who was sitting in the plush chair, recall that first day when the fresh-faced new recruits came in after the incident on the Somme. The thing that he remembered the most when he was told that there would be recruits coming in to replace the men they lost was anger. He couldn’t believe that all those men, all of the friends he lost could just be replaced by some children, still wet behind the ears. They didn’t know the true horrors of war that he knew and it made him bitter somehow like they didn’t deserve to be there when his friends who had suffered so much of the war with him were either gone or laying in hospitals waiting for their turn to die. Up until the moment, he saw Blake sticking out his hand, trying to his is nervousness as he introduced himself he was sure that he was going to ignore these recruits, it would be better for the both of them, mostly for Will who would not have to be so sad when they eventually when away like his friends. It was looking at that innocence that drew Will in, a significant portion of him wanted to protect that innocence, to make sure that the brilliant spark of wonder and curiosity remained in those eyes even after he went home. Tom couldn’t be touched by the war and Will was going to ensure that. </p><p> </p><p>He snorted softly and derisively remember the vow he made to himself. He had failed to keep that promise to himself and Tom had died. Tom had heard that snort turned away from the cherry blossoms to look at him. He leaned back on the doorframe blocking the sunlight from streaming in and it was moments like these when he thought Tom to be real. He was a ghost, he was supposed to be transparent, but the light seemed to move around him illuminating his frame, making him seem more real, solid. But Will knew better, it was just his mind working overtime to make Tom more real, to make himself believe that he hadn’t died due to Will’s failure. He got up from his chair that always sat facing his back garden and moved towards the figure who smiled at him. It was that eager smile when Will gave in and did things that Tom wanted, whether it was going to get their water or got up to walk patrol with him. Will's face reflected that smile as he came to stop besides Tom. Even standing next to him Tom didn’t look any more like a ghost than when he was sitting down. He was impressed at his unconscious efforts to make it seem like Tom was real. Perhaps he was losing his grip on reality, but if it meant more moments like this where none of the sadness and pain of reality reached him, it was worth it.</p>
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